


Crush

by PunkTsuki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Otabek Altin, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Angst, Coming Out, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Eventual Smut, M/M, MalexMale, Otabek Altin - Freeform, Yuri Plisetsky - Freeform, bottom yuri, daddybek, otayuri - Freeform, top otabek, yurabek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11956017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkTsuki/pseuds/PunkTsuki
Summary: It had been a year since Yuri had haphazardly thrown together his exhibition skate. A year since his best friend had trained with him every day. A year since he got too comfortable with having that boy near him. It had been a year since they had met in Barcelona. Since Otabek had quite literally swept him away on his motorcycle. And even more since they had ballet class together as younger skaters. So much time had passed and Yuri still looked back on these moments with a pang of longing pulling at his heart strings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow so this is the first fic I have really written since i was like 16 so go easy on me, here. Damn Yuri on Ice dragging my ass back into trash land. You can find me on tumblr here: https://punktsuki.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> If you see any mistakes or anything please let me know! 
> 
> Comments/questions are always loved. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the ice babies as much as I do x
> 
> P.S the terrible song Yuri dances to in the beginning is "Lollipop" by Framing Hanley.

Yuri closed his eyes and the ringing of the music echoed through the dance studio. He took a deep breath and slowly began to move and gyrate his body, letting the song determine his next move. The hard guitars told him to run his own hands down his torso, rest them on his hips, sensually grind and pop his hip. He twirled and grabbed hold of the pole he stood next to with both hands. He pulled himself up off the floor, feeling the muscles in his core tighten. This was still new but he tried his best to concentrate on the song and not the screaming tension of his abs.

 _And she, she licked me_  
Like a lollipop  
Like a lollipop

_Shorty wanna thug  
Bottles in the club_

The speakers blared as Yuri wrapped one leg around the pole and swung. _Fuck these lyrics are terrible_ he thought to himself. He couldn’t help but wonder what Otabek would say about this garbage. He knew his shit; he would have picked a much better song for Yuri to dance to. Yuri felt his cheeks warm up and it wasn’t due to the exertion from dancing. Dammit, he had to keep going but once on the topic of Otabek, Yuri’s heart rarely obeyed the demands of logic.

 

It had been a year since Yuri had haphazardly thrown together his exhibition skate. A year since his best friend had trained with him every day. A year since he got too comfortable with having that boy near him. It had been a year since they had met in Barcelona. Since Otabek had quite literally swept him away on his motorcycle. And even more since they had ballet class together as younger skaters. So much time had passed and Yuri still looked back on these moments with a pang of longing pulling at his heart strings.

 

Who the fuck had crushes on their best friend like this? Weak, cliché people, that’s who. And Yuri didn’t associate himself with those types. Yuri could never let this get out. Otabek could never know. This was yuri’s own little secret and that was okay by him as long as he could stare off and daydream about his dangerous dark eyes in his own spare time.

 

 _In your spare time,_ _трахать голову_ _! Not while you’re training._ Yuri scolded himself. _But what about Grandpa?_

 His own breath got caught in his lungs as a lump grew in his throat at the thought of losing the only person he really had. Any thoughts of his best friend were often followed by the terrifying reality that his feelings could ruin everything. Yuri definitely could not let anybody know about this.

 

Yuri was brought out of his own distracted thoughts by a burning pain on the skin of his calf and the snapping command from the dance teacher in front of him. The music cut out. His teacher’s long black hair was whipping around her shoulders as she scolded Yuri’s lack of concentration tonight.

 

“What’s up with you huh, blondie?” she questioned. “Your leg slipped right off the pole, you usually get this move, no trouble.”

 

“Sorry Kristy I uh. Maybe it’s the song, it’s not working for me I don’t know, maybe it’s just not my night?” Yuri gently lowered himself down from the metal pole he had been dancing with until both of his bare feet were firmly planted on the studios floorboards. He frowned. It was his own idea to learn new ways to move his body for some upcoming routines, why was he slacking now?

 

“Alright, alright. Just go through it with me one more time tonight. If you don’t fuck it up I’ll let you go, it’s getting cold and late anyway.” She rolled her eyes but she clearly understood more than she was articulating in that moment. She was somewhat taken aback by the fact that Yuri had actually apologised instead of bitching her out like he would normally do.

 

Thankfully, Yuri found himself able to get through his routine successfully just once more before he was allowed to stop. Yuri walked over to his leopard print gym bag leaning up against the wall, pulling out both his phone and water bottle. He took a swig from the bottle with one hand, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. He gazed at his phone as he held it in his other hand.

 

He noted that it was already 10:30pm and he had two missed calls from Grandpa. There was also a text from Otabek.

 

He knew that Grandpa would be worried. He wasn’t aware of the new dance classes Yuri was taking. He didn’t need to know. He wouldn’t approve. He barely approved of ballet after Yuri turned 13 years old.

 

“Too feminine for a man like you now, Yurochka” he would grumble. Yuri wasn’t exactly sure how the hell dancing on ice in glittery outfits was any different, but apparently it was. He ignored the missed calls, he needed time to think up an excuse. He’d just feed it too him when he arrived home soon.

 

Instead he slid open the text from Otabek. He smiled down at his phone as the contact name “Beka” followed by a bear emoji lit up the touch screen. The text read:

 

_Skype me tonight before you sleep? Wanna run my set by you before my gig tomorrow._

 

Yuri felt the blood rush back to his cheeks and he looked around him to see if Kristy was close enough to notice. Hopefully The fact that he was just dancing could cover up his blush. He couldn’t help but smile as he replied to his best friend. He loved that Otabek held him in such a high regard that he played him parts of his sets before anybody else would get to hear them. It made Yuri’s heart flutter, but he would never admit that.

 

“Hey, blondie” Kristy’s raspy voice interrupted his train of thought as she strode up to him. She shoved a USB stick towards him. “I picked the song for you because I knew you wouldn’t appreciate a pop song. You pick your music for skating, so pick your music for this too. Just make sure it somewhat oozes sex. Got it?” she raised her eyebrow. He smirked and nodded, knowing that she was giving him a challenge.

 

“Got it.” He replied simply.

***

  

“Yurochka!” Grandpa’s voice rumbled the second Yuri stepped through the front door of their home in Saint Petersburg. Yuri groaned inwardly and began to head to his room. He loved his Grandpa more than anything but more recently he had found them butting heads far too often. He turned down the hallway, dumping his bag just inside his bedroom door.

 

“Yurachka, I am talking to you” Grandpa raised his voice louder as if Yuri couldn’t hear him already. “Where have you been?” He boomed. Yuri turned back down the hall to face him.

 

“Grandpa, I was just at the rink, chill. I just needed to clear my head” He rolled his eyes and stuck his hands in the pockets of his oversized hoodie. Unfortunately, that drew attention to Yuri’s booty shorts he wore for dancing and the large amount of his exposed skin.

 

“What are you wearing? Yurochka what are you doing showing your bare legs? Go. Get changed now.” Grandpa huffed and ushered Yuri into his bedroom, slamming the door as he walked away. “We can’t have the media seeing you like this Yurochka!” He was flustered.

 

“Ugh shut up, old man” Yuri flopped onto the mound of blankets on top of his bed, looking up at his bedroom roof. A large poster of a tiger stared back down at him. He sighed, remembering how much he struggled to reach to actually stick it up there. He had been jumping and climbing all over his bed to try and reach higher heights. It was Otabek that came to his rescue over skype that morning and told him to get a damn ladder.

 

He lay there, limp on his bed, reminiscing. He knew he should shower and change but at this point he wanted to rock his booty shorts til morning just for the sake of being oppositional.

 

Yuri sat up, removed his hoodie, revealing his bare chest and flopped back down onto his stomach, kicking his combat boots off onto the floor in the process. Grandpa had the heater on at a thousand degrees at all times, it was too hot to stay in any thick layers in this house. He reached for the laptop that was sitting at the end of his bed and opened it, double clicking on the skype app.

 

Otabek was online.

 

Two seconds later, the Skype dial tone sounded. Yuri’s heart jumped. If there was a physical representation of an exclamation point, his heart was it in that moment. His hand shook and he quickly clicked to answer.

 

“Yura, hi” Otabek’s deep voice spoke softly, affectionately through his laptop’s speakers. Yuri could see that he was in bed, wearing a grey hoodie and a soft smirk on his face. “I’m not worth enough effort to put clothes on for?” He questioned, gesturing towards Yuri’s naked chest.

 

“Pft. I just got home from practice, I’m hot and no, you’re not that important. Don’t flatter yourself, Beka” Yuri laughed softly, fighting off the red flushed tone to his skin that he knew was crawling up his neck.

 

“So. You really are naked right now?” Otabek questioned.

 

“No…” Yuri huffed. He shuffled his body and knelt on the bed on his knees. “I got these little booty shorts, they’re kinda cute, huh?” Yuri wiggled his hips to show his best friend. “Grandpa fucking lost it” He explained, laughing. He liked pissing people off.

 

“I can see why” Otabek raised an eyebrow. “You wore that on the ice, Yura?”

 

“Well…no.” _Shit._ “I was at dance practice” he skirted around the truth but he knew he was about to spill.

 

“You wore nothing but booty shorts to ballet? Lilia would have kicked your ass and –“

 

“I was at pole, actually” Yuri was definitely blushing now as he slumped back onto his stomach. “I’ve started pole dancing.” He explained but looked away. He didn’t want to see the look on Otabek’s face. Disappointing him was not something Yuri was ready for.

 

“Pole dancing?” Otabek questioned. “Why?” He asked. He didn’t sound disappointed. Or mad. So Yuri looked at the screen of his laptop, analysing his best friend’s face. He generally wasn’t one to express too much emotion but Yuri could usually guess what was happening in that beautiful brain of his. It looked to be that Otabek was curious.

 

With his face growing hotter and hotter, Yuri reached up to the ponytail on top of his head that he had forgotten he had tied. He yanked the hair tie out, allowing a blonde wave of strands to tumble over his shoulders and face. This would hide any of the red that came through Otabek’s computer screen, surely.

 

“I uh” Yuri cleared his throat. “I want to put some new movements into my routines you know” he shrugged. “I wanna show up that fucking Katsudon and show him what eros really looks like. Adding some sex to the ice. With class, not like fucking Chris.”

 

“Yura.” Otabek started, and then stopped to think it through. “Yura, you’re a virgin how are you goin’ t –“

 

“Look I didn’t say it was foolproof, okay?” Yuri snapped. “Besides, Welcome to the Madness was kinda sexy, right? I came up with that on my own. You gave me the music but it was hot, right?” He had to look away. He felt stupid, remembering the way he had dragged Otabek onto the ice last minute once he had seen Victor in Yuuri’s exhibition. He couldn’t help that he was competitive. Katsudon wouldn’t know sex appeal if it slapped him in his chubby face.   

 

“Will you…show me?” Yuri couldn’t be certain but he was almost convinced that Otabek’s voice lowered about two octaves. Yuri’s head snapped up to the screen, staring his best friend in the eye – confused.  

 

“You want to see me dance?” Yuri’s own voice raised an octave, embarrassingly enough but he ignored it.

“Yeah, you got practice tomorrow? Film it?”

 

“O-okay” Yuri stuttered, unconsciously biting his lip. “Sure.” He agreed. “So, anyway can I hear your set or what, Beka?” he asked, changing the subject.

 

Otabek’s eyes sparkled as he sat up, getting ready to delve into his music.

 

 _Fuck, he is so beautiful._ Yuri thought to himself as he listened to his best friend speak with such animated passion.

 

*** 

They spoke online for hours. Otabek shared his set while also giving Yuri a list of new music to listen to. He loved listening to music his best friend recommended, it felt like pieces of Otabek were right there with him when he put his headphones on. Not to mention that Otabek completely understood what Yuri liked. Yuri always seemed to forget about the three hour time difference between Saint Petersburg and Almaty when they spoke like this though. He felt his heart sink just slightly when he looked up at the time in the right hand corner of his screen.

 

“Fuck, Otabek I’m sorry” Yuri cringed. “It’s like three in the fucking morning for you, what are you still doing talking to me?” He asked, not really wanting his best friend to leave. “You need to be up again in like two hours, right?”

 

“Mm.” Otabek replied. He was never much for words but Yuri knew that this meant he did. “I was thinking about pulling an all nighter, actually. It’s off season anyway.” Otabek shrugged.

 

“Beka, get your ass to sleep you’re working tomorrow night, remember?”

 

“Ha. But you’re way more fun” Otabek smirked and paused. “And those booty shorts _are_ pretty cute…” He trailed off. He’d caught himself staring on various occasions when Yuri had gotten up to get something. The kid could never sit still but the tight, elasticated material seemed to hug his bony hips just the right amount.

 

“Pft Beka, quit it. Now I _know_ you’re exhausted” Yuri rolled his eyes, refusing to read anything into what his friend had just said. “Go the fuck to sleep, I’m gonna take a shower.” He added. He noticed Otabek shift awkwardly in his own bed, causing the camera to shake and blur for a second but then he nodded.

 

“Okay. Sweet dreams, Yura” He whispered and gave a gentle half smile. There was something in Otabek’s eyes that Yuri couldn’t quite read through the screen and his friend’s dark room.

 

“Goodnight Beka.” He replied simply before signing out and closing the screen of his computer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri struggles with with his feelings for his best friend, with being himself, and the distance growing between him and his Grandpa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm back with some angst, mind you, but I'm back regardless! 
> 
> I feel like I should put a content warning on this one for: homophobia and mentions of abusive family in the past. 
> 
> This is a long chapter. I'm sorry for the amount of angst going on right now too, but I promise I'll make it up to you all eventually. This is a queer teen in Russia, after all. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @ punktsuki 
> 
> Russian terms:  
> Что за черт = Fuck what the hell
> 
> Ебать’. Нет = Fuck. No 
> 
> Нет! Точно нет! = No! Absolutely not! 
> 
> Пидор = Fagot 
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy, lil beans x

The next morning, Yuri was up before sunrise, as he always was. He stumbled sleepily down the dim hallway and into the kitchen, his pyjama pants sitting low on his hips and his hair braided into two sections. It got too knotty to try to deal with if he didn’t braid it. He moved around in his sleep too much. Yuri boiled the kettle, eagerly waiting to hold a cup of black tea in his hands as it warmed his skin and insides. He didn’t consider himself awake until the last drop was finished.

 

Once he had finished his tea, he shuffled his way to the bathroom. Yuri scrolled through the music on his phone and selected the playlist of songs Otabek has recommended last night. He pressed shuffle, placed his phone safely on the bathroom countertop and slipped out of his pyjama pants, letting them pool around his ankles. Stepping out of them, he reached for the hot water tap in the shower and turned it on. The water always took too long to heat up for Yuri’s liking, so he unravelled his long blonde locks from their braids as he waited.

 

Yuri stood under the hot water, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. The music coming from his phone was slow and ambient. The singer had a sweet nature about it. His ears pricked up at the touch of indie rock sounds, something he enjoyed. It wasn’t as heavy or as electronic as a lot of the other songs Otabek told him to listen to. He turned to face the downpour of water, letting the warmth engulf his face.

 

Holding his breath, Yuri concentrated on the soft sounds of the lyrics.

 

_So what does it mean if I tell you to go fuck yourself?_

_Or if I say that you’re beautiful to me?_

_It’s affection, always_

_You’re gonna see it someday_

_My attention for you_

_Even if it’s not what you need_

Images of Otabek’s face flashed under Yuri’s closed lids. He could feel the heat in his cheeks rise even under the hot water. He lifted his head up, opening his eyes and taking a deep breath in the steamy air. How could a song relate to how he feels for the stupid boy so closely? Did he do this on purpose?

 

_Sometimes we talk all night long, we don’t shut up_

_And when it’s late we’ll say we’re still wide awake_

Yuri’s heart flipped. What the fuck was this? His mind wondered to the colour of his best friend’s eyes, the slight curve of his mouth and the muscles in his chest that he had found himself staring at far too often when they spoke online. He thought about the way Otabek had said just last night that he wanted to keep talking to Yuri, that he wasn’t tired. He remembered so vividly the way his voice had lowered, how he shuffled uncomfortably and had a strange look in his deep brown eyes before they said goodnight.

 

Yuri sighed and looked down. He instantly regretted doing so. All these thoughts of his best friend had gotten him too riled up. This was too confusing. What the fuck was he meant to do now?

 

“Что за черт, Yurochka” Yuri cursed himself. “Otabek, what the fuck are you doing to me?” he quietly pleaded as he ran his hand down between his own legs. He was hard.

 

This happened way too many mornings in a row. Some days it was easier to ignore than others. Today was not one of them.

 

Yuri panted as he stroked himself, starting out slow at first but speeding up. He attempted to muffle any small whines or moans. He could feel the tension building in the pit of his stomach, he knew he would release soon. He wanted it over quickly, knowing the familiar guilt and shame that soon followed this part of his morning routine. The confusion, the anxiety and the doubt always seemed to outweigh any of the pleasure he knew that he was supposed to feel. But Yuri couldn’t let himself feel it. He was selfish, but not that fucking selfish. Otabek didn’t want this and he wasn’t about to start getting his feelings confused with reality.

 

“Beka” Yuri whimpered and let out a gentle moan as the hot, offending substance shot into his own hand.

 

_I think of you_

_I want you too_

_I’d fall for you_

The songs still sang.

He felt his eyes begin to prickle with salt water which soon spilled over his ducts and onto his flushed cheek. Nobody could know about this.

 

 _It’s affection, always._  

***

 

When Yuri wandered out of the bathroom fully dressed and patting at his drenched hair with a towel, he noticed that his grandfather was sitting at the kitchen table. The older man sat slouched with a mug of what Yuri assumed to be tea between his worn hands.

 

“You’re up early for a Saturday” Yuri commented, regarding his elder with a careful and questioning look.

 

“Yeah I uh. Wanted to talk with you, Yurochka” his grandfather said, voice slow and calculating.

 

“Okay. Yeah, sure” Yuri frowned, his brows knitting together. He loved Grandpa and knew the man would do anything for him but Yuri knew that he wasn’t exactly the talking type. Yuri noted that this would probably be something important. He wrapped his hair in the towel that he held in his hand and sat it on top of his head before he planting himself carefully in the chair. He searched Grandpa’s facial expression, hoping it would give something away.

 

“Ugh when are you going to cut that hair Yurochka, it’s past your shoulders now it’s not respectable for a man your age, how many times do I need to ask this of you?” Grandpa grumbled, his voice growing louder.

 

“Seriously?” Yuri looked away. “That’s seriously what this is about?” He was pissed now. His hair was actually something he enjoyed, it set him apart and that wasn’t a bad thing.

 

“No, no that’s not it but you still need to cut it”

 

“Whatever, Grandpa. Get to the point, I need to go soon” Yuri rolled his eyes. Scrutinising Yuri’s masculinity was not something he needed this morning. Nor was it something he really cared about in the first place.

 

“Yurochka, you talk too long to that Kazakh boy too much and too late. He takes up too much of your attention. It isn’t healthy and I’m not having it in this house anymore, okay?” Grandpa stated. This left Yuri speechless. He felt his heart drop the the pit of his stomach. What was Grandpa saying?

 

“Grandpa…” He didn’t know how to respond to this. “Grandpa, I can choose for myself who I do and do not talk to and how long for.” Yuri’s heart was hammering and he could feel the tears from earlier begin to spike. He shook his head. “Such bullshit” was all he could manage to articulate.

 

“This is your warning Yurochka. It’s not healthy, you know this”

 

“Why the fuck isn’t it” Yuri snapped, standing quickly and causing the chair he had been sitting in to screech as it slid against the kitchen tiles.

 

“I’m not getting into this now. You’ve been warned, now get to training.”

 

There was not much else Yuri could do. He walked back to his bedroom, silent. He picked up his training bag and left without a goodbye.

 

***

Yuri lay in bed that night, staring into the dark. He clutched his phone in one hand and held on tightly to a small stuffed tiger with the other. He had received two texts from Otabek today. For the first time since they had even exchanged numbers Yuri had ignored the urge to reply immediately and had just ignored them. The first was his usual text during his lunch break, asking

how training was for Yuri. The second was asking if Yuri was free to call him. He received that last text two hours ago.

 

How was Yuri supposed to approach the topic of not being allowed to talk to Otabek as much anymore without explaining that his grandfather was very clearly picking up on some sort of feelings Yuri had for his friend. How else would them talking raise alarm bells for his Grandpa? He at least was worrying that Yuri wasn’t acting as a “normal” seventeen-year-old boy should.

 

What was he supposed to say? “Hey, so my grandfather is suspicious about my sexuality and oh, by the way his suspicions are right. We can’t talk anymore, sorry Otabek?” _Yeah fucking right. Like damn hell._ That was not happening. How could he explain that he thought that talking to Otabek was bad for Yuri? He couldn’t imagine Otabek being anything other than good. He both lit his heart on fire and motivated him to do better. But Otabek wouldn’t understand this at all.

 

His phone began to vibrate and light up with the image of Otabek’s smiling face in Barcelona. Yuri’s heart felt as if it were about to drop right out of his ass. In that moment he froze. He knew what he wanted to do. He also knew what Grandpa would’ve wanted him to do.

 

 _Fuck it all. Since when do you do as you’re told, anyway?_ He thought.

 

Yuri answered his phone and held it to his ear, pulling the blankets on his bed up over his head to muffle the sound of his own voice.

 

“Otabek” He said, the pounding of his heart echoing in his ears.

 

“Yura?” Otabek didn’t bother hiding the concern or confusion in his voice like Yuri knew he could have. “Hey, are you alright? What’s been going on?”

 

“Yeah, I’m alright” Yuri whispered.

 

“Why are you so quiet? I can barely hear you, Yura” Otabek paused. “You didn’t text today, what’s wrong?” He added. His voice was laced with concern. Yuri knew that his friend could tell something was up.

 

“I swear you’ve never actually spoken this much before, I usually do the talking” Yuri laughed softly, avoiding the questions. “Uh. My Grandpa is just asleep that’s all” He whispered.

 

“That doesn’t explain you not talking to me all day. You usually jump at any chance to complain about training or someone underestimating you based on your slight figure and soft features” Otabek half joked but Yuri detected something hidden behind it. Hurt? “Did I do something?” Otabek half pleaded.

 

“Uh. It’s complicated, Otabek but I’m here now” Yuri felt his own heart begin to shatter as he lied to the one person he trusted more than anything in the shitty world.

 

“You never call me that…” Is all Otabek said in return. They sat in silence then, Yuri listening to Otabek’s breathing. He knew that this may be the last time they spoke this closely outside of competitions. His chest was constricting and his own breath was shaky as he longed for nothing else but the boy on the other end of the phone. He couldn’t know this. “Yura, I’ve gotta get to work. I’ll be here though when you’re ready to talk about whatever the hell is going on with you. Okay?”

 

“Okay” Is all Yuri said in response.

 

“Goodnight, sweet Yura” Otabek whispered. Yuri hung up without another word.

 

Yuri was used to building walls like this, blocking people out in order to make himself stronger. But not with Otabek. He wasn’t sure that he could keep this up.

 

*** 

A knock at Yuri’s bedroom door woke him on Sunday morning. He saw that his grandfather was poking his head through the doorway. He stared, groggily at the man from under a pile of blankets, pillows and various tiger plush toys surrounding.

 

“Good morning Yurochka, rise and shine!” He boomed.

 

“It’s fucking Sunday, what the fuck?”

 

“Language Yurochka!” Grandpa scolded.

 

“Right, sorry. No filter in the morning, I’ll work on it. What is going on?” Yuri rubbed his eyes, still confused. He was old enough to get himself up and out of bed whenever the hell he wanted to. Grandpa knew this.

 

“I’ve made you an appointment for this morning with the hairdresser, It’s for 11:15. I would like you to get yourself there and –“

 

“Ебать’. Нет!” Yuri sat straight up in his bed, flailing against the layers of blankets he slept with. “Нет! Точно нет!” Yuri actually felt betrayed in this moment. He was not cutting his hair, not until he decided to himself.

“What did I say about language?” Grandpa boomed. “You are going to that appointment, Yurochka, and that is final.”

 

Yuri chucked his body back down onto his mattress and covered his face with the blankets. Grandpa was not to see how much this hurt.

 

“You’re too old to be acting like a five-year-old” His grandfather grumbled as he left the room. He mumbled something low in Russian that Yuri didn’t quite catch as he slammed Yuri’s door and stormed back down the hallway. What he did hear clearly though, amongst the angry mumbles was one word. “пидор.”

 

Yuri felt as though his entire body was drained in that instant. He froze. Grandpa knew.

 

*** 

It was 11:00pm. Yuri scurried around his bedroom in the dark, gathering whatever clothes he could easily get his hands on and throwing them into a large leopard print duffle bag. He couldn’t disturb Grandpa. They had another argument tonight once Yuri had pranced through the front door with his long hair tied into two high ponytails, very much still in tact. He didn’t go to his appointment and his grandfather had given him hell to pay for it. He had spent most of the night with shaky hands and tear stained cheeks. But it was time to get his shit together.

 

 

If Yuri was being honest with himself and put his smart ass, stubborn retaliations on pause for a moment – he knew that he hadn’t felt this alone or scared since he came to stay with his grandfather when he was very young. He felt the same way now as he did before Grandpa took custody of him all those years ago. It was because of this familiar feeling that he knew he had to get out. Now.

 

Yuri picked up his black, studded backpack and dumped it on his bed along with the duffle bag. He rummaged through the top draw of his bedside dresser and picked out a small, red booklet that had “passport” imprinted in a gold colour along the bottom in English. He threw it in his backpack along with his wallet and headphones.

 

Wrapping a pink scarf around his neck and gathering his things, Yuri started down the hallway. He tip-toed slowly and carefully, hyper aware of where the floor boards would normally creak under his weight. His heart was racing to jump right out of his throat and his hands shook but he tried his hardest to keep his breath steady.

 

He took slow, continual breathes through his mouth, a technique he had learned from the countless times he had needed it when lived with his mother. This way, his nose wouldn’t whistle and give himself away. Grandpa’s hearing of course, was not as sharp as his mother’s had been. Still, Yuri couldn’t believe that he was doing this again. He felt as though he was going to be physically sick.

 

Reaching the front door, Yuri gripped the cold, steel handle and turned it carefully. He could feel the strap of the duffle bag slung over his left shoulder begin to slip as he moved. His breath hitched and got caught in his chest, burning against his ribcage. He clamped his eyes shut as if that were going to help anything and tightened his grip on the door handle. He needed to move fast. He also couldn’t make a sound.

 

Yuri held his breath as he slipped out through the door. He closed and locked it as carefully as he could manage. His lungs protested and burned in objection but he kept moving, half running down the side of the road. He finally let his breath go and gasped for air once he reached the familiar bus stop down the street, his knees buckling as he desperately drug in the sharp night air.

 

His journey was a dazed blur of both numbness and tear-streaked cheeks. Yuri’s head pounded as he walked through the familiar time capsuled space, bright lights and announcements in a multitude of languages assaulting his senses. He wondered over to a large blue screen, the word “departures” blurring into a white squiggly line through the tears that hadn’t stopped falling yet. He sniffled and rubbed his face. He needed to concentrate.

 

His eyes followed down a time table and then flicked across to a bunch of numbers he didn’t really understand much. He followed that line on the board though until his eyes landed on the words he was searching for.

 

_Gate D10       Almaty       Boarding_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri arrives in Almaty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just needed to update, I needed my loved to at least be in the same room together. Yuri deserves that much. The angst won't angst forever, sweetie. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ punktsuki 
> 
> Russian terms:
> 
> Конечно, нет, идиот = Of course not, idiot
> 
> Ребяческий = Childish
> 
> Comments and chats really keep me going and are much appreciated. 
> 
> Enjoy, loves x

On the other end of Yuri’s 5-hour flight, he found himself wondering what went so wrong in his life that lead to him landing in an entirely knew country because of a boy. On more than one occasion. At least this time, it wasn’t only his competitive nature taking over and driving him to do crazy things. He really did have nowhere else to go this time. He was alone in this.

 

Yuri manoeuvred his way through Almaty airport more or less on autopilot. He’d never seen this airport before but he had been to so many in his short 17 years of living that he knew they more or less functioned the same way. It didn’t take too much brain power to get his bags and get himself out through the doors on the other side. He was functioning mostly on reckless energy and the need for a place to lay down and sleep at this point.

 

Yuri rubbed at his eyes sleepily, shuffling over to a corner just outside the glass doors of the airport entrance, moving out of anybody’s way so that he could dump his bags down and figure out what the hell he was doing. He grimaced at the way his hair fell into his eyes. It very clearly needed to be washed. He wondered for a minute why flying always made his hair oily but his skin dry. He haphazardly twisted his locks into a messy bun on top of his head and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. Standing with his feet on either side of his bags on the ground, he saw that it was 7:30am in Almaty. He sighed, guessing that Otabek was probably at training already. It was ridiculous that he knew the boy’s schedule. Yuri scolded himself silently but in this situation he guessed that it did help a little.

 

He was exhausted. He contemplated calling Otabek but decided against it. He wasn’t ready to explain. He just wanted to collapse and sleep. Explanations could wait, Right? He scrolled through the contacts in his phone, selecting the information for Otabek. He wasn’t going to call him but he did have his address saved from previous occasions when Yuri had sent him small gifts and care packages. He then opened the “Uber” app on his phone, organised a lift and then waited.

 

***

The throbbing headache, the swirling gut and the feeling of being utterly drained hit Yuri in one terrifying wave as he sat in the front of the Uber driver’s car. Yuri didn’t speak Kazakh but his driver did speak Russian, which he was glad for. He could see that Yuri was young though and that his green eyes were worn and tired. Yuri showed the driver Otabek’s address on his phone. They sat in silence after that and Yuri knew the driver was trying to be polite. It also meant though, that Yuri was left to his own thoughts. He didn’t like that.

 

The drive to Otabek’s apartment was longer than Yuri anticipated but he couldn’t think of a reason why he would prefer it to have been quick. He was a blonde ball of an anxious mess either way and it’s not like his best friend knew that he was coming. He could only hope that Otabek wouldn’t turn him away.

 

When the driver did pull up to Otabek’s apartment, Yuri recognised the façade immediately from the times they would chat on skype while Otabek walked home. The off-white coloured apartment building was actually a lot taller than Yuri thought it would have been. He stared up at it once he had dragged his bags from the back seat of the car and thanked his driver. It was then though that he realised that he probably couldn’t get anywhere near Otabek’s place without a key.

 

“Конечно, нет, идиот” Yuri mumbled. He stood there, staring up at the row of bay windows, wondering which window might be his friend’s.

 

Yuri dragged his bags over to the stone steps of the building’s entryway and slumped down, stacking his bags next to him and sitting with one elbow on his knee. He leaned uncomfortably to his left and rested his head against his belongings. He’d made it but He didn’t know what to do now.

 

He closed his eyes and internally scolded himself for completely proving to Otabek that he was a ridiculous, impulsive child. He wouldn’t blame his friend if he stuck him back on a return flight to Russia.

 

“Grandpa was right” He sighed. “ребяческий, Yurochka.”

“What the fuck?” a familiar sounding accented English infiltrated Yuri’s ears. A loud shuffle and stumbling brought him out of his light sleep but before he could open his eyes, he felt a soft, warm touch to his chin. “Yura?” This was Otabek’s voice. He recognised it and his heart responded to it immediately but he could tell that it was laced with confusion and concern.

 

Yuri’s groggy eyes fluttered open and worked on bringing the man directly in front of him into focus. The soft summer sun had felt nice on Yuri’s tired face. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there.

 

“Otabek?” Yuri’s voice cracked on his name when he saw the boy’s worried dark eyes. He couldn’t help the immediate prickle that threatened his eyes. He couldn’t even begin to stop the stream of hot, salty tears that spilled over onto his cheeks. He looked away. This was stupid and embarrassing.

 

“Oh shit.” Otabek whispered. “Okay, let’s get you inside. Can you stand? I’ll get your bags, okay?” Otabek fussed. Yuri couldn’t speak without his voice cracking but he nodded, embarrassed by how pathetic he must have looked. 

 

*** 

Yuri could feel himself almost falling asleep where he stood in the elevator. He could also also feel the tension and worry burning off of Otabek standing next to him. To Yuri’s relief though, he didn’t say a word. That’s something he loved about Otabek, he realised. He never pushed Yuri to talk, he was happy to communicate in other ways. But he also never told Yuri to shut or talk less either, which was something Yuri was used to people doing. He was comforted by this small and unspoken gesture.

 

He followed Otabek to what he guessed was his apartment door, silently taking his own bags while his friend fished his keys from his pocket. Once inside, Yuri sighed as he took in the weirdly familiar surroundings of his friend’s apartment. He had never been here, of course but he had seen it so many times when they had been talking. Everything surrounding him in that moment was Otabek. He smiled.

 

He heard the shuffling of feet on carpet and looked around, realising they weren’t the only two in the small space. He looked to Otabek who’s face seemed to still be in shock from Yuri’s appearance and followed his gaze. That’s when he saw a woman he didn’t know, brown tresses of hair falling over her shoulders and wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that Yuri recognised right away as being one of Otabek’s.

 

She stared at Yuri and cocked her head to the side, shifting her gaze back and forth between the two boys. Yuri just stood, staring with a jealous pang swelling inside his chest. He didn’t have the energy or the voice for any snarky comments or tantrums at this point but he did know that he wanted her gone, whoever she was. He stared back, silently challenging her to speak.

She did speak, though it was in Kazakh and it was only to Otabek. Yuri huffed, somewhat annoyed that he had no idea what was happening. He watched as she turned down the hall only to return with more clothes on and a handbag. She kissed Otabek’s cheek before prancing out the door.

 

“I’m sorry Yura, you didn’t need to see that” He said, narrowing his eyes and looking at him with an anxious look on his face. “I didn’t exactly know you were turning up, though huh?”

 

“She your girlfriend?” Was all Yuri could manage to spit. He was too tired for bullshit. He was surprised when Otabek let out a small laugh.

 

“You really think I wouldn’t tell you before now if I had a girlfriend, Yura?” He paused. “No, she’s a fangirl who stayed a little longer than I thought, that’s all”

 

“You fuck your fans, Beka?” Yuri’s voice was shaky, he felt sick at the thought of Otabek being with anyone other than himself even though that had only ever happened in his fantasies. He shook his head and dumped his bags next to the couch. He needed rest before he really snapped at the boy. He couldn’t do that, he had nowhere else to go. He couldn’t fuck this up now. Otabek just shrugged though and sighed.

 

“She found out I was playing last night and I met her at work, I didn’t realise til later. Look, it doesn’t matter okay?” He paused. “Yura, can we talk about why you’re here? Or how you even got here?”

 

“I jumped on a plane, there’s not much to it” Yuri rolled his eyes and flopped down onto the couch. “You didn’t fuck her, right here did you?” He couldn’t help that one. Otabek rolled his eyes right back at him.

 

“No, Yura. I didn’t.”

 

“Good. I’m taking a nap.” Yuri curled his slender body up into a ball, tucking his knees under his chin. He was asleep before he could hear Otabek respond.

 

***

Yuri’s eyes fluttered open but only to see darkness. He sat up, a heavy and unfamiliar blanket fell from his shoulder as he attempted to take in his surroundings. He heard a soft murmur, someone speaking. He recognised that it was Otabek’s voice and he suddenly remembered where he was and how he got here. He leaned back into the couch, bunching the blanket up around his face, desperate for warmth.

 

“Yeah, I’m not coming into the club tonight, sorry. Uh. Something has come up” He heard Otabek say but didn’t hear a reply. He heard soft footsteps padding into the lounge room and looked up to see his friend with his phone to his ear. “Thanks for understanding, man. See you later.” He hung up the phone and walked over to where Yuri was sitting.

 

“You’re awake” He half whispered. Yuri just nodded. “You needed sleep, are you sure you don’t want to lay back down?”

 

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, Otabek.” He looked down at his knees, bringing them closer to his chest.

 

“That’s a shame, you’re cute when you’re asleep” Otabek remarked. Yuri was glad it was dark enough to hide the blush that probably spread right across his face. “Do you need anything? Coffee?” Otabek stood, flicking the lights on in the apartment.

 

 

“Coffee would be great, actually.” Yuri admitted. “What time is it?” He stood up and followed the older boy into his kitchen.

 

“Uh. 6pm” Otabek replied, pressing buttons on a silver coffee machine. “You drink it black, yeah?” He asked with his back to him.

 

“Mmhm” Yuri hummed, walking up behind him and wrapping his arms around the older man’s torso. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he knew that he needed this. He felt Otabek stiffen under his embrace as he hadn’t been expecting it. But then he felt a slow breath leave his lungs as his body deflated and relaxed in Yuri’s arms.

 

Otabek wriggled a little and Yuri was sure that the moment was over, Otabek would pull away now, he was certain. It was a shock though that he just simply turned to face him, taking his arms in his large grip and wrapping them back around his own body. He looked down at Yuri and let out a small laugh.

 

“You got taller, Yura” He half smiled. “You’re still small, but you did” He reached out, not thinking and tucked a strand of Yuri’s hair that had escaped his bun behind his ear. Yuri knew his face was red and there wasn’t anything he could do to hide it this time. “It’s about time we chat though, Yura. You gotta tell me why you’re here.”

 

Yuri let out a slow, shaky breath. He looked down at the way his chest was pressed against his best friend’s. He sighed, already grieving the way that they would probably never stand this close again. He knew it was time.  

 

“Okay.” Was all Yuri could say.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri's kind-of confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so late for anyone still with me! Uni got real crazy, but I'm still here! 
> 
> I had a request to translate any Russian terms I use in the notes so I am going to start doing that and will edit the notes in any past chapters to help anyone out with the meanings of the Russian words I use throughout. I am by no means a native speaker though so If you notice any mistakes please feel free to tell me! 
> 
> Russian terms in this chapter:  
> Блядь = Damn 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr if you want yuri on ice and other fandom bullshit! @punktsuki
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Come on, Yura.” Otabek pulled away from their embrace but only because their coffees were ready. “I’m not going to work, I have all night if it takes that long to explain” he handed Yuri a hot mug and smiled softly. He could see Yuri’s eyes widen and wake up just at the smell floating from his cup. _Cute_ Otabek thought to himself _. Shit, he’d gouge my eyes out if I said that out loud._

 

Yuri leaned against the kitchen counter and stared down into his coffee cup. The coffee was as black as the void he wanted to get lost and drown in at that moment.

 

“Does your grandpa know you’re here?” Otabek prompted.

“No. We’ve been fighting a lot lately” Yuri shook his head and traced his index finger over the rim of the coffee cup mindlessly.

 

“Well, he’s probably worried. What’s goin’ on?”

 

“No. He probably doesn’t care, really” Yuri mumbled. “He tried to cut my hair, Beka.

 

“What? Why? That’s what this is about?” Yuri could hear the anger in Otabek’s voice but he wasn’t entirely sure if the anger was directed at him or at his grandfather. He knew that it was enough to break through Otabek’s usually guarded expression though. “Yuri your hair is part of who you are” He stated. He shuddered when he Otabek didn’t use his nickname. “But…that’s not really what it’s about, right?” Otabek pushed a little. Yuri just shook his head and took a gulp of his coffee. He swore he could feel electricity run through his brain as it recognised the rush of caffeine.

 

“No. He uh.” Yuri stammered. “We just don’t agree on some things. I uh.” His hands were shaking. He needed to put the cup down before he spilled the hot liquid all over himself and the kitchen floor. Otabek just waited patiently, as he always did.

 

“Otabek. I like…” Yuri trailed off and his words got stuck in his throat. He could feel his lungs constricting, his entire body didn’t want these words to come out. Otabek raised an eyebrow and stood up straighter. His eyes were dark and curious. “I like boys” Yuri settled. There was no way he was going to specify that he liked Otabek. “I like boys, I’m gay. I’m fucking gay and he figured it out and he wanted to cut my hair because I’m too feminine and when I refused, he tried to do it for me and-“ He was shaking. “I just had to leave Otabek, okay? I’m sorry, I had nowhere else to go. I knew he’d just follow if I went to Lilia or Yakov. Viktor is in disgusting happily married land with Katsudon in Japan. I don’t want them knowing anyway, it’s my own damn business and…Beka, you were the safest place I could think of, okay? He didn’t want me talking to you anymore. I know that I’m a spiteful little shit but that’s not the reason I came here, I just came here because you’re the safest and I just needed to get away from it for a bit so please just-“

 

Yuri didn’t see it coming but he was now wrapped up in Otabek’s arms, his face pressed to the taller man’s chest. The impact of being tugged into his grip forced a strange, embarrassing squeak to escape from Yuri’s throat.

 

“It’s okay Yura, it’s okay. I know.” Otabek soothed. Yuri only now noticed that tears had betrayed him yet again as they pooled on his cheeks and soaked into the material of his friend’s t-shirt.

 

“I’m sorry, Beka” Yuri whispered. Otabek pulled away slightly to look down at the blonde boy. His own eyes had a glisten to them now.

 

“Don’t you ever be sorry, Yuri” Otabek’s voice was rough but his words were sweet. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.”

 

“You do?” Yuri’s shaky voice couldn’t make anything more than a pathetic whimper. Otabek let out a soft laugh.

 

“Honestly?” He paused and seemed to contemplate his next words. “Honestly, Yura I’ve been waiting for you to figure this out for yourself” He sighed, shaking his head. “But. We live in rough places for us to be ourselves so it’s not gonna be easy, okay? You’re Grandpa is Orthodox, yeah? I get it. Fuck, my family is Muslim, it’s different but I get it. I can’t tell you that it’s gonna be easy but I can promise you that with me, you’re safe and you will never be alone in this. You’re safe, Yura” Otabek’s hand had moved to Yuri’s hair, running his hands slowly up to the messy knot on top of his head protectively. Yuri doesn’t think Otabek has spoken this much in his entire life.

 

“We?” Yuri asked, his cheeks heating up at Otabek’s gentle touch.

 

“I like boys too, Yura” Otabek laughed. “One boy in particular, actually” He admitted.

 

“You like boys? What the fuck are you doing with a girl in your apartment if you like boys, Otabek?” He snapped a little. This was draining.

 

“I don’t discriminate, I just like people” He chuckled at the younger boy’s response. He leaned back to look at Yuri’s face and gauge his reaction.

 

“What about the boy you like?” Yuri demanded, looking down at his feet as if he found them thoroughly interesting.

 

“Well, the right time just hasn’t come yet.”

 

“Otabek?” Yuri asked.

 

“Yeah, Yura?”

 

“You’re a slut, you know that, right?”

 

“Mm, yeah I know” Otabek hummed. “But I have no shame in it and you only say that because you’re a virgin” he chuckled.

 

“Go fuck yourself” Yuri grumbled, embarrassed about that fact. Otabek just smiled down at him. “So. Can I stay here? Just for a bit?” Yuri asked, returning their conversation back to its original purpose.

 

“Of course. But we need to figure out what to do with you before the season starts, okay? We have to tell everyone you’re safe, for starters. And your training, Jesus Christ” Otabek went into adult mode, something Yuri had only seen once in Barcelona when Yuri had distractedly wondered off without him. He left Yuri in the kitchen in order to grab his phone and his laptop. Yuri grieved over the loss of contact and warm arms holding him. _I shouldn’t get used to that_ he thought.

  

“Are you going to tell them?” Yuri now stood in the doorway, face pale. Otabek sighed, knowing what he was afraid of.

 

“Yura sweetheart, they work with figure skaters, we’re all a little queer.” Yuri scowled at the cute pet name but he knew that he was just trying to sooth him.

 

“All queer? What about JJ?” he snarled, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“JJ is not as straight as you think he might be” Otabek laughed.

 

“What do you…oh” Yuri trailed off as he did the math. “You slept with JJ, are you fucking kidding me?” Yuri couldn’t help but let his heart sink at that fact before a jealous pang stabbed at his chest. “I hate that guy” he murmured. This was _his_ Beka, whether Otabek knew it or not. JJ was in for a world of pain.

 

“Ah. Long time ago” Otabek rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Look, the point is they’ve all worked with Viktor, they’re used to this and they are not going to care, okay? They don’t give a shit unless your performance is affected, they’re not going to drop you. I promise. You’re safe, Yura. They just need to know that you’re safe too.”

 

“Okay, fine.” Yuri gave in. “But you’re telling them and I’m not talking to Grandpa. I’ll text my pole teacher, none of them need to know about that and she’d eat you alive, anyway” Yuri waved his hand in the air as if to physically shake it off. He was blushing and it was obvious. He dammed his stupid pale complexion.

 

“Okay. We can figure this out, Yura.” Otabek assured him as he dialled a number into his phone. He half expected there to be missed calls from his grandfather, but there were none.

 

It was decided that Yakov would notify Yuri’s grandfather of his whereabouts and Yuri was to work towards negotiating where he wanted to stay when he flew back to Russia – weather or not he would go back home to Grandpa after the whole thing blew over. He was to continue his training with Otabek and his coach for the few weeks he needed in Almaty. Yakov wasn’t happy, but he was more distressed about the fact that none of his skaters “have any sense of responsibility.” Yuri knew that one was coming.

 

“Yura, you need to get some sleep” Otabek said once he had finished his conversation with Lilia over the phone.

 

“Mm” Yuri agreed and flopped back down onto the couch he had fallen asleep on before. “Night, Otabek.” He said, closing his eyes.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Otabek accused. Yuri cracked one eye open to see him standing over him, hands on his hips.

 

“What’s up, Mr. sass?” Yuri questioned.

 

“Yura don’t be an idiot. You’re not sleeping on the fucking couch, come on. Bed. Now.”

 

“Y-your bed?” Yuri asked, sceptical and unsure. “Wait a minute did you wash your dirty straight sex sheets?” he screwed his face up in disgust, wriggling his nose.

 

“Oh my god yes, okay? Jesus. You’re awfully picky for the day you’ve had. You’ve had a hell of a trip, come on” Otabek gently took hold of Yuri’s wrist and led him down the hall to his bedroom. Yuri was glad at least that he could still poke fun at his friend without it turning weird or awkward. Otabek really didn’t mind this new information at all. Despite the overall rejection he felt from his grandfather, Otabek’s reaction had put a disrupted feeling inside Yuri’s heart to rest.

 

“Woah” Yuri said as he entered Otabek’s room. He’d only ever seen this room with the webcam already pointed at Otabek in his bed, he’d never seen the whole thing. This space was his and Yuri could tell that it was his sanctuary. “Are those like…records?” Yuri broke free from Otabek’s grip and walked towards a floor to ceiling shelf that covered the entirety of the rooms back wall.

 

“Mm” Otabek hummed in confirmation. “It’s my vinyl collection. My turntable is over here” He jutted his chin in the direction of the device that sat on a cabinet, attached to large speakers. “There’s another one in the loungeroom.”

 

“You listen to music this way?” Yuri asked, getting closer to read the album spines. He noted that they were organised alphabetically.

 

“Yeah, when I’m at home I do” He replied. “There’s a lot of old stuff but also some new pressings and releases. I use some of those to make my mixes”

 

“I didn’t know you did it this way” Yuri whispered in wonder. “Will you show me?” His green eyes were bright and wide, enthralled in what Otabek had to say.

 

“Tomorrow, tiger” Otabek let out a breathy chuckle. “No time for that now. You need sleep” Otabek was secretly eager to share what he loved so much with Yuri but he knew it wasn’t the time. “I brought your bags in here earlier, do you have something to sleep in?” Yuri nodded and began to rummage through the mountain of crap he had haphazardly shoved in before he had left. “I’ll uh. Let you change” Otabek stated.

 

Yuri couldn’t help but pick up on the shake of uncertainty in Otabek’s voice. _What was that about?_ Otabek turned around and slid into his ensuite bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him. He did everything so quiet and calm, Yuri honestly didn’t know how he did that.

 

Yuri found that he didn’t pack any of his pyjama pants. And there was no way in hell that he was going to sleep in his jeans. He settled on a pair of boy leg briefs and an oversized, faded band shirt that he normally only wore to bed. He untied his hair from the knot on top of his head. It was beginning to give him a headache. He would normally braid it neatly but he wasn’t up for doing that right now, he’d deal with the mangled consequences in the morning. He shuffled over to Otabek’s bathroom door and knocked as gently and politely as he could manage.

 

When the door swung open, Yuri was met with a bare chested Otabek, wearing nothing but sweat pants sitting low on his hips.

 

“Woah” Yuri breathed. It escaped his mouth before he could even control a single thought that came to mind. Yuri could feel the blush spread across his face, reach the tips of his ears and if he knew his body as well as he thought he did, he knew that it travelled right down to his crotch. Otabek was sculpted like some sort of tanned fucking god. Each and every muscle was defined and yet they looked soft and inviting, sitting across his broad chest. Clearly, weight training worked better for Otabek than it ever had for Yuri.

 

Right now though, Yuri was just glad that his band shirt was long and loose enough to conceal his semi hard-on caused only by the site in front of him. _Jesus fucking Christ this is embarrassing_.

 

“Oh shit.” Otabek whispered when his eyes landed on Yuri. He looked away quickly. Sure, he’d imagined Yuri might look like this in his own private fantasies but he never thought he’d exceed Otabek’s expectations. This boy was fucking gorgeous. They stood there for a second too long, Otabek staring and Yuri shifting uncomfortably on the spot. Otabek finally cleared his throat, took a deep breath and looked the younger boy up and down.

 

“A Def Leopard shirt? For real?” he asked, a smirk on his face. He hid his reaction behind the appreciation of the band on Yuri’s shirt.

 

“Uh. Yeah. I mean I only wear it to bed but…” Yuri shrugged and looked down at his feet. “I like leopards, you know.”

 

“It looks good on you” Otabek couldn’t help but laugh at what Yuri had said but his eyes were dark and they lingered over the way the shirt framed the pretty, pale flesh of Yuri’s bare thighs. _Блядь_.

 

Otabek had to stop staring at him like he was somehting to eat. Although, when he looked like this, Otabek definatey wished that he was. “It’s cool” He laughed it off and walked out into the room, needing to pay attention to anything other than Yuri in that moment. How was this kid even real?

 

“Alright, climb in” Otabek gestured towards his bed and watched as Yuri did what he said. It wasn’t his fault for staring at the way Yuri’s shirt rode up to reveal the black pair of underwear he was wearing as he crawled across the mattress. Or at the way that the material skimped over the underside curves of his ass cheeks. Right?

 

He watched as Yuri wiggled his way under the blankets and made himself comfortable, unaware of the thoughts flooding through the older man’s mind. “Okay well. Goodnight, Yura” Otabek turned to head out into the hallway.

 

“Wait. Beka?” Yuri stopped him in his tracks.

 

“Mm?”

“Sleep with me?” Yuri asked in the softest voice he’d ever heard him use. “I thought you were staying” he added after a second, for clarification.

 

“I was going to but. Well I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable” Otabek gestured towards Yuri but he was mainly referring to the blonde boy’s lack of pants.

 

“I wouldn’t ask if I was uncomfortable, Bek” he pulled the covers open, a silent invitation. “Please?” He pleaded softly.

 

“Okay. If you’re sure” Otabek replied before switching the lights off and climbing in next to him. Yuri was asleep in a matter of minutes, his breathing having slowed and his petite body having finally relaxed.

 

Otabek on the other hand was very much awake.

 

“Yuri Plisetsky” he sighed. “You are going to fucking kill me.”


End file.
